I remember when the (musical group) the “Beatles” arrived in New York city.
It was insane. Everyone was talking about them.
The local girls painted their faces on the automobile windows, and even the nuns who taught in my elementary school were all enthralled.
After the concert, that was the only thing that my nun teacher (first grade) talked about.
We watched the news at night and all we saw were miles and miles of hysterical screaming girls. It was insane.
You all have no idea about just how crazy it was. The Beatles brought a new kind of Rock n Roll to the United States. And the entire nation was eating it up.
And it was so crazy.
My teacher (the nun) told me that she couldn’t hear the music because the screaming was just so vigorous.
Take a look…
Today…
Why does China keep trying to compete with USA when they know they are gonna lose? Most Chinese students, rich, elites crave for US citizenship after all.
A Nation isn’t built out of Rich, Elite people but by the Middle Class
Within the Mainland, the US has much less to offer than what it could two or three decades ago
Back then China had 1 World Class University necessarily meaning 40% of the brightest Chinese had to go to US or Western Universities for their education
Back then 73% of Chinese Manufacturing and Production was LOW GRADE PRODUCTS necessarily meaning 30% of the most talented workers had to work either for US / Western Owned Industries within China or migrate outside China
Today things are different
China has 26 World Class Universities, next only to the US with 41
Almost 24% of Chinese manufacturing is HIGH GRADE and ADVANCED which means 6–7 Million Jobs within the Mainland and expected to rise to 20 Million in the next decade
Add to this a fervor of Chinese Nationalism within China
The Result is clear
Emigration Agencies have reduced from more than 1000 in 2007 to 180 or so in 2024
Enrollment into Australian Universities by Mainlanders dropped 52% in the past decade
Outbound Tourism to US and Europe fell by 27% in the past 7 years while to Thailand, Maldives, Singapore & Ironically Japan rose by 66%
Domestic Tourism surged by 213% from 2009 to 2023
Anyone living in China can see the change for themselves
The US just doesn’t fascinate China anymore the way it used to
China has a thriving Capital Market
China has a very good standard of living, affordable quality healthcare and quality education
In fact in the past two years – 4,600 Doctorate holders moved back to China from the US – who were either Green Card Holders or US Citizens
Urban Life in China beats Urban life in US
Semi Urban Life in China is very good today
Salaries of Workers in High Grade or Advanced Manufacturing is very high indeed
Things are changing significantly for the Mainlanders
Can you name some places in Thailand that you think are not safe to go to alone as a tourist?
Badly lit alleys in Khlong Toei Slums? Nope! Red-light, Pattaya Soi 6 ? Nope!—- Low cost National Housing Estate in Din Daeng dubbed -slums in the air?—-Nope! Walking Street at Bangla, Phuket? Nope!
Some of those places are hidden gem for tourists and many are popular, though it’s seemed unsafe but they’re almost 100% safe if you aren’t a troublemaker yourself.
So, where, then, isn’t safe to go alone as a tourist?
Well, nothing is wrong with going to the police station in Thailand, it’s just like going to a renowned lion den alone.
Even if you are one hell of a ‘Rambo’ you are no match with those guys in Brown in the above places.
Are you kidding me? What is wrong with going to make a police report I’m a victim, I did no wrong against the Thai law.?— Did you? And are you sure about that?
I know you will come up with that. ‘ You said you were attacked by 5 Thai security guards, you acted in self-defense, right?’
“You will be slapped with a few charges like ‘destroy public property’ ( section 360) by pulling the pipes from roadside rail to beat all 5 Thai guys up. Another charge is ‘using foul language like ‘ f-word’ to insult their mother’s ( Libel sec. 326’) plus’ Third; Walk out of the bar without paying the bills.(Fraud base:345)
From all the 3 charges, you will get compound fines 20,000 Baht or jailed, or both. Meanwhile, locked up until you get a bailout, could also be deported if convicted…What? sigh!
The 5 guys? They, too, were fined.—500B each on ‘assault’ (section 295) with 1 year suspended sentence, doing community works for 6 weeks.
Now you know, going to the Police station ‘alone’ as a tourist is a suicidal— Bring a Thai lawyer with you, he or she knows what to do.
Putin Confirms War Has Been Declared on the Russian World Today
This statement occurred in mid-December 2024.
Beef Chimichangas
Ingredients
- 1 (3 pound) roast
- 2 firm tomatoes, chopped
- 3 to 4 scallions, chopped
- Garlic
- Salt and pepper
- Comino (cumin)
Instructions
- Cook the beef in a slow cooker for 6 to 8 hours with the seasonings.
- Cool and shred beef.
- Cook tomatoes and scallions and add to beef.
- Place meat mixture on flour tortillas and roll up. Drop into hot oil until golden brown. Drain.
- Top with green chiles, sour cream, guacamole, salsa and shredded cheese.
- Serve on a bed of shredded lettuce.
A Place in the Sun
Submitted into Contest #24 in response to: Write a story set in the dark recesses of space where the two main characters are often at odds with each other in humorous and comedic ways.… view prompt
John Rennie
“For me? Ted, you shouldn’t have.”
Before Ted could speak Eileen reached forward, snatched the shiny box from his hands and ripped off the lid. Eileen’s cheeks were suddenly yanked down by invisible draw strings when she saw the box was empty.
“You’re a mean bloody sod, you know that? Bringing me a shiny thing, getting me all excited then smashing my dreams to pieces with a box of empty promises.”
Ted peeled back his lips to reveal his crooked gnashers.
“Give over, would ya? Screws! I need bloody screws…for the satellite.”
“Screws? I’ll give you screws! I’ll bloody screw you!” she said, waving her fist and reluctantly stepping aside to let him through the doorway.
“Chance would be a fine thing!” he chuckled.
“Wash your bloody gob out, you. J-Boy will be here tomorrow and I don’t wanna hear you opening your potty mouth in front of the lad.”
Ted carried on shuffling toward the storage hatch without saying a word.
“Anyhow, haven’t you got enough screws from all that bloomin’ junk you spend all your life scavenging from outside?”
“I keep droppin’ ’em. My hands aren’t what they once were.”
“Nowt’s what it once was. Remember when you took me to see the rings of Saturn? In the pod, just you, me and a nice bottle ginger wine, billions of stars and endless possibilities.
Now look at us. Cooped up in either ends of this station like a prison, but worse. No bloody excitement here! Just the same old orbit in the darkest, dullest end of the Solar System. We’ve been dwelling about this Uranus moon for all eternity. Saturn was a previous life…”.
Eileen continued ranting and reminiscing, but all Ted could hear was the sound of boxes crashing together as he rummaged around. He picked up a silver box and and grinned.
“I’ve told ya before, there’s a lot of good discarded satellite material on this orbit. These young uns dump it and bugger off t’ Jupiter on a jolly. Perfectly good stuff, it is.”
“You know why they dump it ‘ere, Ted? Cos there’s nowt ‘ere. Nowt but bloody junk and darkness, and that miserable moon locking us into the most awful orbit anywhere in the Universe. Round and round and round and round. I’ll tell ye Ted, if I have to…”
A sudden blast of white noise flooded the control room.
“Come in, Cleveland Company station X14, this is Cleveland Craft 0187, permission to engage”
Ted and Eileen looked at each other and froze.
“J-Boy?”
“You daft apeth, Ted! He’s already here! You’ve wasted all your time meddling with that bloody monstrosity… Oh dear! Oh dear, oh dear.”
“Put the kettle on. I’ll get the satellite.” Ted hurriedly made for the West Wing.
J-Boy felt a warm tingle in his stomach as his spacecraft neared the docking hatch of the space station. Of all the places passed Jupiter, his grandparents space station was the place he looked forward to visiting the most. A loud mechanical bang followed by a gentle hissing sound indicated that his craft and the station were locked together. When the gravity light turned green, he released the door.
“Here he is. Where’ve you been, stranger? Come ‘ere!”
J-Boy was smothered by Eileen’s warm embrace. It was here he always received the warmest welcome of anywhere in the Universe. Clevelands X14 always felt like home.
“I’m great”, J-Boy managed to say amidst the big welcome squeeze.
Over Eileen’s shoulder, he could see Ted holding a large metal dish which was covered in wires and electrician’s tape.
“I got a present for ya, lad. Here you are. What d’ya think?”
Ted handed the gift to J-Boy.
“Ooohh, thanks, Ted. Eh…wha…what is it?”
“It’s a satellite, of course. A retro type but it works a treat. You can pick up all sorts on this: Earth war documentaries, alien life programmes, sports from other galaxies…”
“Aw, sounds great. Thanks, Ted”. J-Boy said smiling warmly.
“Put that junk away, Ted”, Eileen intervened.
“What does he want that old thing for? Pay no attention to him.” Eileen said, gently nudging J-Boy down the central corridor towards the East Wing where a fresh pot of tea was brewing.
The control room was a spacious, octagon-shaped area. From the entrance, various doors and hatches could be seen around the back and sides of the room. Directly ahead was a window spreading across the entirety of the front wall, displaying the darkness of space. In front were two swivel chairs facing hundreds of dials, switches and buttons that controlled the station. Above the controls was a single 50-inch screen displaying images of a much younger looking Ted and Eileen by the window of a capsule pod, peering out at different coloured planets. Like everything in this space station, it looked like it was made at the start of the millennium. It was all fairly dated, but J-Boy liked the homely feel of it. He sat in one of the chairs with Ted and Eileen sitting directly across from him, awkwardly jammed into the opposite chair which was clearly designed for one. Between the chairs was a small table, on it a metallic teapot along with three steaming mugs.
J-Boy began recounting tales of distant galaxies and far off parts of the Universe that Eileen could only dream of visiting. Eileen had been to many places when she was younger, but nowhere as far and exotic. “ How do you communicate with people outside of the Solar System?; Isn’t is dangerous crossing the Kuiper belt?; What’s the food like on Earth?”
She could listen for hours, asking questions and imagining what could’ve been.
“I can show you some snaps if you like?” J-Boy said looking for something in his bag.
“Aye, go on then, I’ll hook ‘em up to the big screen.”
“It’s OK, Ted. I don’t use screens anymore. I’ve got holograms now.” J-Boy held up a small black cube no bigger than a matchbox.
“Holograms? Bloody marvellous! Nowt like this in our day. Us oldies can’t keep up anymore”.
The elderly couple looked like children again as they sat with their mouths and eyes wide open, staring at the hologram projection in awe. They gasped as J-Boy waved his hand in the air to call upon hundreds of spectacular images of planets they’d never heard of and galaxies they didn’t even know existed. Eileen was completely engrossed. The more pictures she saw, the more questions she asked.
Ted wasn’t quite the conversationalist that Eileen was. He would just nod and chuckle upon hearing the wondrous tales. Occasionally chipping in with “Bloody marvellous”. He enjoyed listening, but was always happier when he was busy doing something. Without saying a word, he got up from the chair and pottered over to the control room kitchen in the corner.
“What would ya fancy to eat J-Boy?”, Ted called over his shoulder.
“Oh, nothing thanks, Ted. I ate on the cruise control around gravitational pull.”
“How about some cherry tomatoes?”,
“No, I’m OK, thanks.”
“Grown with martian soil in our space garden”
“I’m good thanks, Ted.”
“Lovely and sweet they are”
“No, I don’t really like…”
“I’ll go get them now.”
“But…”
“Eileen! What’s the key code for the space garden? J-Boy wants some cherry tomatoes, he’s starving!
“Eh? No…I’m fi…”
Eileen frowned and looked up from the projection looking deeply concerned.
“Oh poor lad! What are we like, eh? Here I am gabbing away and you’re starving to death. I’ll get ’em J-Boy. Hold on to your rockets, kidda.”
“Don’t be daft. He wants me to get them.”
“Not with your grubby hands. You’ve had them all over that dirty dish and God knows where else.” Eileen gently elbowed Ted’s forearm away from the keypad and prodded the numbers on the glass, saying them aloud as she did. “3 1 7 5 2”.
Eileen entered the space garden and quickly picked up a bucket full of cherry tomatoes that had been freshly picked a few hours earlier. The bucket was overflowing. Eileen groaned and stumbled, but regained her footing and waved Ted out of her path.
“Give it ‘ere”, Ted demanded.
“Don’t be daft. I’ll take it”
“No you won’t”
J-Boy rushed into the garden behind Ted and Eileen.
“I’m alright. Really! I’m not hungry.”
Despite J-Boy’s pleas, Ted and Eileen continued to struggle. Both had one hand on the bucket handle, fiercely insisting they should be the one to offer the tomatoes to their indifferent guest.
Eileen grabbed the handle with her free hand. Now with a two-hand grip, she pulled the bucket towards her, causing both bodies to lurch further into the garden. With one emphatic tug, she pulled the bucket free from Ted’s withering hand. The force of her pull was so great, she let go. The bucket looped over her head for what seemed like an eternity before it landed in the sink behind.
Like a set of lottery balls, the tomatoes bounced around before being rapidly sucked down the sink hole. The sink was in fact a funnel attached to a waste pipe. The three of them stood silently with their mouths open as, through the window, they watched hundreds of cherry tomatoes implode and explode in the vacuum of space. The Cleveland Company logo turned red as tomato juice plastered to the side of the station.
Of course, Ted and Eileen blamed one another for the tomato incident. From where J-Boy was standing, they were both at fault, but it was Ted who agreed to go outside the station clean up the juice. Meanwhile, not to be seen making less effort than Ted, Eileen insisted on inspecting J-Boy’s craft to check it was safe and sufficiently re-fuelled for the onward journey. Guests always left Cleveland X14 with a full tank.
J-Boy watched on from the control room window as two spacesuits attached to the station by an umbilical cable floated out into the alien atmosphere. Eileen could be seen inserting a fuel rod into the J-Boy’s craft which was docked on the right of the window, and Ted could be seen on the left rigorously wiping.
Without warning, a cigar shaped object collided with the door of J-Boy’s craft, but left no mark.
“Bloody space junk! What nuisance!”, Eileen muttered into her radio which J-Boy could hear in the control room.
Suddenly a cluster of antennas, tubes, rocket motor shells followed, relentlessly pelting the space station. A solar panel spinning like coin cut through Eileen’s umbilical cable sending her suited body into a spin.
“Teeeeed!”
Ted could see Eileen was untethered and drifting. Without any hesitation, he leapt from the safety of the station into the infinite space. Their spacesuits collided. Ted’s umbilical cable pulled taut as it wrenched the spacesuits back. The relief of catching his wife was short lived when he realised they only had a few minutes before Eileen’s suit’s backup oxygen supply would run out.
The silent onslaught of satellite debris continued to shower down near the entrance; it was too dangerous to go back in just yet. Holding Eileen in one hand, Ted used his free hand to pull his umbilical cable causing them both to float in the direction of the capsule pod.
“Quick, get inside.”
In the pod, Eileen removed her helmet and immediately drew in one huge breath.
“Bloody space junk” she exhaled.
In the safety of the pod with oxygen and protection from the junk cloud outside, Eileen and Ted watched as J-Boy’s craft took a battering. The space station was a giant. It could withstand a severe assault from any decommissioned satellite cluster, but J-Boy’s craft was tiny and in danger of catastrophic damage.
“We have to do something” Ted said as he climbed into the driver’s seat. He hadn’t used the pod since he was courting Eileen in another lifetime.
“Where’s the wha’d’ya me call it?”
“The what?”
“The wha’d’ya me call it”
“The wha’d’ya me what? The ignition?”
“That’s it!”
“There! Bloody ‘ell, Ted – it’s not rocket science.”
“I think it bloody well is!”
Ted flipped a switch and the wall of controls sprung to life.
“Ere we go!”
The propulsion rockets launched the capsule pod up and away from the under fire space station. Ted hauled a lever to change the direction of the rocket boosters. A blast of flames spluttered from under the pod, propelling it in front of J-Boy’s craft and into the path of the debris.
“Come in Cleveland ex, one, four. This is Cleveland CapPod.
“Ted, Eileen, What happened? Are you alright?”
“J-Boy, d’you hear me, lad?”
“Yes, Ted.”
“Listen, we took a hit from some bloody debris. The door’s knackered and so is Eileen’s suit. We’re not going to be able to connect to the docking hatch.”
“I can come out and help!”
Eileen abruptly leaned into the radio
“No, you won’t, you stay right there. It’s too dangerous.”
“But…”
Ted held Eileen’s hand and a sudden calmness came over both of them.
“We’ve had our time. A great life! We’re gonna get out of this dark end of the Solar System as far as this little pod will take us. We’re going to find a place in the Sun. I made a promise”
J-Boy eyes filled with tears. He was devastated but somehow, he understood. He always knew this time would come.
“Ol’ Cleveland X14 is all yours, lad. Take her anywhere you want. She a bit dated but she’s a good one. A bit like, Eileen”
“Oi!”
Ted chuckled.
Eileen fought the tears, “I’ll miss you, J-Boy. We love you.”
The pod lifted up over the space station and accelerated out in the opposite direction of the Umbriel moon for the first time that century.
J-boy sobbed into his left forearm resting on the space station control panel. His eyes were red and sore. He lifted up his head and with his right hand, reached out to switch off the radio. His hand stopped and hovered over the button.
“It’s this way. I’m sure of it.”
“We should’ve left this orbit half an hour ago, where are we going? You daft apeth, Ted. You’ve got the map upside down!
J-Boy smiled and laughed through the tears. He knew everything was going to be just fine.
Shorpy
Through a Great Distance
Submitted into Contest #24 in response to: Write a story set in the dark recesses of space where the two main characters are often at odds with each other in humorous and comedic ways.… view prompt
Matthew Klingforth
Through a Great Distance
“Andrew, God, I can actually hear your sulking,” Becky said across the hull to the large man sitting with his head hanging and his back facing her. “It’s like I have the endangered, sniveling vagina bug crawling in my ear, right now.”
“I am not sulking!” Andrew informed her angrily as he lifted his head and stared ferociously at the corner. “As a matter of fact, I was just now having a soliloquyial discussion on the selfish disregard of ingratitude and how Princesses only crap on other people’s property!” He screamed at her from his walled in position and Becky rolled her eyes in return.
“Look, man, the alfredo sauce was too salty, I don’t know what to tell yah,” she replied with a guiltless shrug. “Maybe, next time, I don’t know, don’t add the entire salt lick to the pot.”
“That is a reward winning recipe!” Andrew bellowed and turned his purpling face towards her. “And I’ll let you know that having all of the culinary delicacy of a frozen lake, does not excuse, nor forgive, straight rudeness.”
“Whatever,” Becky grumbled and returned her attention to the blinking lights of the ship’s internal computer.
“Fine,” Andrew agreed to her resolution and sent out a cold silence across the room.
“I don’t think that, “soliloquyial,” is even really a word.” Becky poked and to her delight, the bear stood-up and stomped out into the hallway.
“There are rules of engagement!” Andrew roared and jabbed his pudgy finger into the chest of no one as he clomped down the hallway. “Once an argument is clearly at the point of appropriate silence,” he said while gesturing wildly with his hands. “I mean, that’s it, you just shut-up. But no, not her, she always has to get that last little…” He paused, too angry to finish the sentence and, instead, bit down hard onto his knuckle. “I want my GD dog back!” he finally screamed at the top of his lungs.
“Becky! Becky!” Andrew yelled desperately as the terrified animal clawed free and leapt from his grasping arms. “No, no, bad dog!” he scolded the Pomeranian, but another crack of lightning from the newest freak storm put her tail between her legs and sent her scampering into the throngs of the many on-lookers and partiers across the barricade.
“Japan…swallowed…unprecedented tsunamis,” Andrew heard the radio from the nearest booze and food tent scream in between its static and he helplessly turned and looked at his escape vessel.
“Becky?” He whimpered with his whole body moving in feeble motions and the tears choking out his breathing. For the briefest of moments, he considered leaving without his precious Becky, but then he remembered all of the hard work and strings that he had to pull to gain passage to the new world and procure his own personal carriage. Failure was not an option.
“You sir!” Andrew pointed and yelled with newly found determination as he marched across his lot towards the security at the gate. “I will have a moment with you,” he said and pushed his impressive mass in between a small helmeted guard and the rest of the world. “Do you know who I am?” Andrew more demanded than asked.
“Yes sir, mister Chizka, sir,” the guard said with what he thought was machismo. “I am assigned to your post, sir, I’m, I’m your takeoff guy” he added lamely and immediately regretted it.
“Good,” Andrew replied with zero satisfaction as he assumed his own notoriety. “Then you know that I am never, EVER, without my Becky!” he blustered as the guard tried to catalogue every piece of information that he had on the man and a wife Becky seemed to ring a bell.
“Yes sir, mister Chizka, that is well known,” he decided to answer in the positive.
“Well?” Andrew asked as he looked around himself incredulously. “Do you see my Becky with me?”
“Oh, oh, no sir,” the former shoe salesman caught the drift and put his two weeks of military training into action. “Where was the last place you seen her, sir?”
“She ran off into that damnable ruffian tent,” Andrew answered with distaste. “She is very likely right at the entrance, trust me, she won’t wander far from a constant source of sausage.”
As the guard struggled with a reply, he was spared by the sudden upheaval of the earth’s crust, causing all to stumble and cheers to erupt from the tent dwellers.
“Listen,” Andrew said in a sudden rush, trying to quickly compensate for the earthquakes two-day early arrival. “What’s your name son?” he asked the guard.
“Thomas Jensen,” Thomas Jensen answered astutely.
“And now, Thomas,” Andrew said in his straight business voice. “I can assume that you’re not one of these tent cretins, right? That you plan on leaving this degenerate planet and make a fresh start on the new world? Yes?”
“Yes sir, mister Chizka, our craft leaves tonight.”
“Good Thomas, I’m relieved to hear that,” Andrew said while putting his meat hooks onto the guard’s slender shoulders and drawing paternal serenity onto his face. “Thomas, I need someone to march into that Hell pit and get me my Becky,” he said while pointing at the tent. “And whoever that person is, well, let’s just say that they will be very well rewarded in the new world,” he stated and then paused for dramatic affect. “Do you think that you could be that person, mister Jensen?”
“Yes sir! Absolutely sir!” Ole’ Thomas was pretty sure of himself.
“Excellent!” Andrew applauded. “Bring her to my sleeping quarters, get us off this God forsaken planet and I assure you that the goose will be splendid.”
Andrew stared out the bedroom window as the world deteriorated around him. “Where are you?” he whispered harshly and took his third pill in less than ten minutes. “I do not feel calm!” he screamed at the window and shook the pill bottle angrily. “Stupid—useless…,” he mumbled softly as his chin dropped down into his chest and time slowed down around him.
“Who the Hell is this?” the drunken slur of a tiny, blonde woman and the sound of a locking door caused Andrew’s eyes to flutter open.
“Becky,” he pleaded unconsciously as the engines started to rumble and the planet Earth began its long series of chain explosions.
“I want my GD dog back!” Becky heard Andrew yell from across the ship and she immediately felt a twinge of regret for that last jab.
“Ah, the big lug,” she said as she drew her legs up onto the chair to hug her knees, thinking about their first conversation.
The world, she believed, was gone. The navigational system, fried on take-off. We could be the last two human beings alive in the Universe and dude couldn’t stop blubbering about his stupid dog.
“Cute little shit,” she said with a sigh and grabbed her rubber ball to squeeze.
The mix-up, she supposed, was favorable to her. She should be dead and at one point and time, it was all that she had expected, wanted, maybe. She was in a weird place at the time. Still though and in retrospect, she made out pretty good. The vessel was equipped to accommodate and feed eight people for no less than ten years. There were like a zillion different movies and video games to play and the regurgitating ventilation system provided a lifetime of low-quality, but breathable air.
The dog, she felt, would have been very happy here.
Words can’t really describe the awkwardness of getting to know the last remaining member of your species. The last real face that you would see in your entire lifetime. Uncomfortable, she guessed. Discomfited? But, after a long mourning and bonding period, it took them all of fifteen seconds to realize that they were trapped in space with a complete and utter moron. He was a proclaimed dog person and she held firm that Becky was really more of a cat. He was a staunch Republican and she didn’t really care what you called a crook. How was it possible that she got stuck with the one person who could witness the explosion of their planet and still continue to deny global warming?
It was the absolute worst possible case scenario for the both of them.
Becky smiled and gave the ball two quick compressions.
“No, no, you’re doing that all wrong,” Andrew said as he watched her gaming in the family center and grabbed the controller out of her hands.
“Oh, really?” she asked, a little shocked at his playfulness, as they had been on a, as needed, communication schedule for the previous three months. “You know how to play Super Mario Brothers?”
“Oh yeah, my brothers and I ate up the classics,” Andrew answered as he deftly moved the courageous plumber across the screen. “I saw Zelda in the game catalogue,” he said while pausing and smiling over at her. “Have you ever played it?” he asked with a school boy innocence that would eventually charm his way into both her pants and their first marriage.
Andrew had considered all four of their marriages as a silly waste of time, but, Becky, although far removed from her deflowering, was a traditionalist. Not so much the religious stuff, but a commitment was needed if you wanted the long-term, personal attention sex. She was, after all, a lady.
Initially they had the children conversation, you know, the old, save the homo sapien rally, but ultimately decided against it. Their little family, alone in the middle of outer space, trying to maintain the human race was, well, just gross, once you ran the numbers and, besides, neither one of the them were exactly, kid people, anyhow. So, they kept rugrats out of their tumultuous and mostly predictable cycle. Right now, as far as Becky saw it, they were within four months to their next marriage. This was clearly a make-up fight. Right now, he’s standing in the master bedroom, staring out the window, waiting for me to come and apologize.
“And apologize I will,” she thought happily as she stood-up and bounced the ball off of the floor and back into her hand. The truth was that over the last six years, she had really grown to love the big ape and she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he loved her. Only love can make a person as crazy as she made him.
Besides, she had put a lot of effort into making him a suitable partner, the, sometimes, aggressive tips and hints on how to be a better lover, alone, claimed her ownership. She wasn’t about to give up her man and her apologizing for hurting his delicate nature had also become part of their cycle.
“Hey Andrew,” she yelled as she bounced her ball down the hall towards the bedroom. “About the alfredo sauce, you know that I was just being a bitch, right?” She asked, taking the low road and hoping for a quick make-up.
“Becky, get in here,” Andrew yelled back at her in a dazed and far away voice and Becky quickened her pace.
“Holy…” she stood frozen in the entryway, staring through the window at the last thing that she ever thought that she would see again. “Andrew, it’s a planet!” she exclaimed and Andrew turned in his standing position to nod absently.
“You said that the odds were astronomically against this,” she said as Andrew, the human fun sponge, had calculated its chances to being exactly impossible.
“They, they are,” he stammered and returned his gaze to the looming planet.
“Well, is it, you know, liveable?” Becky asked with excitement growing in her voice.
“Yes, perfectly, its atmosphere doesn’t appear to be much different than earths,” he answered.
“It’s unbelievable,” Becky marveled as she walked to stand next to Mark. “What about other creatures? Is there anything alive down there?”
“Affirmative, be it food, friend or foe, the imager shows plenty of animal activity at the surface.”
Awestruck in silence and as they slowly absorbed the colossal potential floating before them, Andrew and Becky’s fingers gingerly touched together and gently entwined.
“Take us home, Captain Chizka,” she said while looking up at her future fifth husband and Andrew set the thrusters to manual.
Should a 73-year-old man move from the United States of America to Bélgium?
If you can afford it, and you can do so legally, I would say go for it.
I too am 73. My wife left me 20+ years ago, the best thing she ever did for me.
Some time in the next 10 or 15 years I shall die. In the meantime tho, I plan to experience as much of life as I can. So despite meagre resources I travel extensively.
After covid was managed I sold a car and spent 3 months riding trains and exploring France. Then I did a 3 months stint working on a goat farm in Wakayama Japan. I learned two things. 1. It is much cooler in Japan during Australia’s hot summer and 2. Farmers in Japan cannot attract workers. So they are very glad to provide food and board in exchange for 20 hours of light work a week.
I have just returned from working on a pig and sheep farm in Hokkaido Japan. I was there for three months and was able to watch that country change from full leafed summer glory, to a -10º winterscape. Then home to a 44º Australian summer.
I am currently looking for a volunteer position on a European canal barge. Any takers?
You are going to die soon, so if you are able, get busy and go learn something. Once you do you will find that everybody in the world is basically similar. There are two discernible groups of humans. The vast majority of the worlds people want to work, to love, to play, to raise up their kids and worship their gods in peace. These are the people you meet when you travel.
And then there are the rulers, who simply want to fuck things up for everybody else for their own aggrandisement and profit. These are the people who inhabit the media and government and business. The 1%.
What are the top emerging technologies that will change the way we live in the next 5 years?
Chinese robot maids will clean , cook, serve most middle income homes of the world over. 90% of vehicles will be China made EVs. 90% of gardens will be tended by Chinese robot gardener. 50% of lonely singles will have regular sex with Chinese made robot partners. Almost zero bars will be without Chinese robot servers that dish out cocktails and serve beers with precise foam and clean and wipe glasses too! Almost all lorry and buses drivers will need to find a new career. 10 years old now and younger will no longer need to learn how to drive by teenage years anymore. And 95% of cars world wide will be autonomous driving vehicles. 95% of there are using Chinese technologies!
Only USA will there be people who still carry wallets and purse! The only market left for ICE vehicles is the USA. By 2030 194/195 nations on earth has China as their biggest trading partner on earth. The only one not is USA whose Inflation hit 200% for the 10 years running. Thanks to the trade war! USA is a good place to bring your families to see what the world used to be!
Chimichangas de Pollo
Yield: 8 servings
Ingredients
Chimichangas
- 1 (3 1/2 pound) whole chicken
- 6 cups water
- 1 medium onion, studded with 2 whole cloves
- 2 stalks celery
- 2 large whole garlic cloves, peeled
- 1 bay leaf
- 2 tablespoons shortening
- 1 large onion, thinly sliced
- 1 garlic clove, minced
- 1 large tomato, cored and diced
- 1 jalapeño chile, chopped
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed leaf basil
- 1/8 teaspoon cinnamon
- 1/4 teaspoon crushed leaf oregano
- 1 teaspoon salt
- 1/8 teaspoon black pepper
- 8 flour tortillas, warmed
Garnish
- 2 cups sour cream
- 1 cup guacamole
- 2 cups grated Cheddar cheese
- Shredded lettuce (optional)
- Tomato wedges (optional)
Instructions
- Place the chicken, water, onion, celery, 2 garlic cloves and bay leaf in a medium size stewing pot. Cook chicken at medium heat for approximately 1 1/2 hours, or until the chicken is tender.
- Allow chicken to cool, remove meat from bones, and chop.
- Place shortening, sliced onion, and 1 minced garlic clove in a medium size skillet and sauté mixture over medium heat until onion is tender.
- Add the chopped chicken, tomato, jalapeño chile, and remaining seasonings and simmer at low heat for 10 to 15 minutes.
- Place approximately1/2 cup of chicken mixture horizontally across the bottom half of each tortilla. Do not extend the mixture beyond 1 1/2 inches at the sides and bottom. Fold the sides in over the filling and roll the tortilla jellyroll style. Secure each roll with a wooden pick.
- Heat 2 inches of shortening in a heavy pan over medium high heat.
- Fry each rolled tortilla in hot shortening until crisp and lightly browned. Drain on absorbent towels.
- Assemble the chimichangas by placing each rolled tortilla on a plate and garnish with 1/4 cup of sour cream, 2 tablespoons of guacamole,1/3 cup of Cheddar cheese, lettuce and tomato wedges.
Modern Women HAVING MELTDOWN Over Passport Bros!
How much is known about the Voynich manuscript?
My paleography teacher told me that the Voynich Manuscript (Beinecke MS 408) is where your career goes to die. If you claim to be able to decipher it — no, you can’t. Literally every paleographer, cryptographer, code-breaker, linguist, etc. has taken a crack at it by now, and if none of them could decipher it, you definitely have not. If you claim to, you won’t be taken seriously.
We know basically nothing about its contexts beyond what we can see. It’s clearly an herbal of some kind, but the plants do not exist, and there are lots of other extremely strange images, like naked people bathing in a plant? Or being swallowed by it?
These are photos I took of a facsimile. They don’t let you see the real deal anymore unless you really have to, because so many people have touched it, it’s starting to damage the manuscript. The facsimiles are perfect reproductions.
The writing definitely looks like text, but it’s not in any known language or alphabet. Looking at it makes you feel like you suddenly forgot how to read. It looks so much like letters that you feel like you should be able to read it, but it’s just off:
All we know for sure is that it’s a real early modern manuscript, not a modern hoax. There’s a reference to it in the seventeenth century, so it’s at least that old, and the vellum is dated to the fifteenth century.
There’s lots of theories about what it could be, but none of them prevail, because we can’t rule any of them out. If it’s encoded, it doesn’t match any code-breaking technique that’s been used against it so far. If it’s a hoax, it’s an elaborate and expensive one. It honestly might be fiction, written in a conlang. That’s the only explanation that makes sense to me so far, because it would explain why the pictures are of imaginary plants and why the text doesn’t map to any known language. But Tolkienesque works of fiction with their own conlangs weren’t exactly common at the time; fantasy as we know it hadn’t been invented yet. Maybe it just dropped out of fairyland one day, I dunno.
An unreadable book in an unknown language with cryptic drawings of unreal plants and astrological charts sounds so fantastical, it’s hard to believe it’s real. Whether the Voynich Manuscript itself is fiction or not, it makes for some excellent fodder for modern fiction.